Examples
by jblockk
Summary: Sometimes the most unlikely examples make everything make sense. A multi-chapter fic with a different character focus each segment.
1. Chapter 1

**Examples**

_Sometimes the most unlikely examples make everything make sense_

Okay, the key is to remain calm. No use in getting nervous—I'm sure she'll say yes. We _have_ been together for quite some time now; we've discussed the possibility. Besides, we love each other.

At least, I think she loves me. She has _said _that she loves me, but people do and say things they don't mean all the time. Wait, she's not that type of person—I know she isn't. She's sweet, decent, with the largest heart of anyone I've ever met; she would never do that to me.

Damnation, why did my prime example of a relationship have to be those two? How am I expected to have a _normal_ relationship after a lifetime of witnessing that demented version of foreplay? What kind of marriage survives by calling each other things like "peacock" and "Mrs. Nose?"

That's not fair, I'm being too harsh. They _do_ love each other—they just have the oddest way of showing it. However, the moments when they let their true feelings show are nice—when he doesn't let his flamboyant personality toy with her more sensible (by comparison) one, which isn't too often; at least, not in public.

There was one Christmas a few years ago when I witnessed one of those rare moments. I had fallen to a semi-asleep state on the couch after a long day of snow fights, cookies, and presents. For all his supposed laziness, Father could play one hell of a snow fight—it didn't help that he enhanced his game through magic. Although, I suspect we all did to some degree—especially Mum when she went after Dad.

They sat on the floor, against the sofa, exchanging presents, one of his long arms wrapped around her smaller frame. I had assumed that in the excitement of the day they had forgotten to finish trading gifts; not too hard to believe considering all of our relations were over. Although, looking back, it was probably intentional.

Their faces were only partially illuminated by the firelight; Calcifer had taken the evening off to explore the cosmos or whatever a fire demon does with his spare time. She handed him a small parcel wrapped in gold paper. I never saw what it was, but he smiled, thanked her, and kissed her forehead. He then returned her gesture and passed her a bundle. What ever it was, it pleased her greatly for she embraced him tightly and muffled exclamations could be heard. He laughed warmly before kissing her soundly and mumbling something about how it was the least he could do. After a short while, they both rose to go upstairs and, probably as a second thought, carried me to my bed.

There have been other occasions of a similar nature, but that one always sticks out for some reason; maybe because it was so simple, ordinary, so unlike their usual personas.

Well, maybe they aren't such a terrible example after all. It could be different; they could be like Aunt and Uncle from Wales. Half the time, they barely conceal their growing contempt for each other. It's sad really.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I have the ring, the flowers, and the candy. I'm dressed nice—nothing new, I am my father's son after all. Damn, why do I have to be so stereotypical? I should have planned something bigger, something so fantastical to show her how much she means to me. Why did I settle for the simple approach? I should have listened to Dad instead of Mum… Then again, the fountain with the chorus of singing fish, swans, and nightingales did seem a _tad _excessive. Maybe Mum was right and the simple way _is _the way to go. Well, no time to change plans now. Here's hoping…

**AN:** Never been too big a fan of first person, but it seemed to fit so I tried it out. Criticism is appreciated and sought after--don't worry, I take harsh comments quite well. In case it wasn't clear, this is Morgan (Howl and Sophie's son) as he prepares to propose to his unnamed love.

**I've decided to continue this fic with each chapter focusing on how a different character reacts to the news. This first one will be the only first person as the fic is mostly about Morgan.**

**Disc. **Howl's Moving Castle is not mine**.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disc: HMC is not mine to own.**

Upon hearing that their eldest intended to ask for a young lady's hand, Howl and Sophie reacted considerably different.

Sophie, the more sensible of the two, encouraged the boy and, after a loving hug, wished him the best of luck. "Oh, Morgan, I'm sure she'll say yes. She really is a sweet girl."

Howl used an alternative approach. "Of course she'll say yes," he slapped Morgan soundly on the back. "What girl could resist that face? You _are _your father's son, Morgan. We Jenkins men are revered for our suave and irresistible manner."

"Revered, really?" Sophie snorted, "Then how about _you_ start explaining to the countless girls appearing regularly on each of our _four_ doorsteps why the 'suave and irresistible' Rhys and Thomas confess their undying love only to disappear a few days later?"

"I didn't know those two already had girls after them," Morgan mused, hoping to dispel the approaching debacle.

"Don't even pretend Morgan. We all know that the first girl that chased after you was in primary school."

"Yes," Howl acknowledged bitterly, "_you_ were so fortunate to be blessed with good looks during your _first _childhood. If only all of us had been so lucky…" Morgan wisely chose to ignore his father's unusual comment--he tended to remain saner that way. He did, however, notice the withering glare Sophie sent in Howl's direction.

"Anyway," Howl began, effectively changing the subject, "have you given any thought to the manner in which you plan to propose?"

"Well, no, not really." Howl blanched.

"None whatsoever?" Morgan shook his head. After a moment of total awe that his son could be so careless, Howl continued. "My boy, the proposal sets the tone for the entire marriage!" Sophie's snort could distinctly be heard across the room. "Now, the way to go is fantastic. I'm thinking a large fountain with a chorus of singing fish, nightingales in the trees and two swans making a heart shape with their necks should do the trick." He looked like he was ready to say more, but that was before Sophie whacked him on the back the head.

"Don't listen to this peacock. Remember, women prefer sweet and simple over gaudy and over-done." It was Howl's turn to scoff. "As long as you're sincere, I am positive all will be well."

With those words of encouragement, Morgan chose to excuse himself in favor of seeking his siblings' whereabouts upstairs.

"For all our sakes," Sophie began once he was well out of earshot, "she better accept. Despite all my efforts, Morgan did inherit your theatrics." Howl innocently smiled resulting in the marring of his newest suit with a rather large spoon shaped stain across the front. "Remember the show he put on after he thought he misplaced his favorite toy when he was five?"

Howl did remember the incident, quite well in fact. He had come home after a rather tedious meeting with the King (that man really was too demanding) to find the entire main room of the castle literally turned upside down, the furniture in disarray, with every square inch covered in thick, gooey oatmeal. He could have laughed except the action would surely lead to certain death at the hands of his beloved wife.

"Wasn't it under his pillow the entire time?"

"Exactly! Imagine if he was rejected! I swear we might actually have to leave Market Chipping; which would be a shame considering we've survived with _your _antics and reputation."

"Now, Sophie. No need to be so harsh!" He snuck behind her and snaked his arms around her. "Morgan has nothing to worry about. After all he is _our _son. I'm sure no one could reject the offspring of such a lovely couple like us."

"You may have a point," Sophie conceded before adding, "Which reminds me! There was a rather handsome gentleman at the door earlier asking for our daughter…" She was not able to finish as Howl was already halfway up the stairs.

"Cerys!"

**As they say, 'like father like son!' For future reference, in this fic, Howl and Sophie have four children: Morgan, 23, Cerys, 19, Rhys,17 and Thomas, 15. I feel that Howl would be very protective of his daughter considering his past.**

**Any thoughts, comments, or concerns? I'd love to hear it all! **

**Oh, who should offer advice/ whose perspective should be next?**


End file.
